RedDawn
by Calmar Divin
Summary: America tells us what happened when he was almost totally over taken by his least favorite people/countries. It was Russia's pride and joy, even Cuba had to appreciate the straightforwardness of 'RedDawn'. Rated T just in case?
1. PhoneCall

_Red Dawn, an epic '80s speculative movie about 'what if Russia were to really invade'. It was a fun time and I recommend you check it out. Mind you, there are no real 'pairings', didn't write it for that. Country and human names used/interchanged. This may end up as more of a crossover of Heta/RD more so than a fic based on the movie, but that's fine, yes? Not my first fic in general but It is my first Hetalia one and the first one for my new account._

_Please enjoy and let me know what you think, yes?_

As much as I love Hetalia and Red Dawn I'm not awesome enough to have any connection.

//RedDawn//

- Soviet Union Suffers worst wheat harvest in 55 years

- Labour and food riots in Poland, Soviet troops invade

- Cuba and Nicaragua reach troop strength goal of 500000, El Salvador and Honduras fall

- Greene's Party gains control of West German Parliament, demands withdrawal of nuclear weapons from European soil

- Mexico plunged into revolution

- NATO Dissolves, United States stands alone

:PhoneCall.

I didn't think it would really happen, I didn't think it would happen so easily anyway. Invasion was on my mind often, but I never thought of it as truly 'possible'. I underestimated Russia, the USSR. Like all of my citizens I did fear that dauntingly massive union but we had no idea of what they were really capable of. Perhaps we the Nations should have seen it Russia- Ivan -was and is a seriously scary bastard crazy enough to have pushed 'RedDawn' into action and think would not only work at all but that it would be foolproof. Stupid, I'm America, and in America– nothing is foolproof.

I remember that day perfectly when things went into motion. I was out of the capitol taking a break from the stress of impending doom at the White House, to get some rest in my favorite state, Virginia. It was where I met England for the first time and despite all the shit I always give him, I do really love Arthur. Even more so now, and I'll forever be grateful to him, not that I'll stop picking on him and going out of my way to get under his skin.

I had woken up early enough to watch the sun rise, I remember how the blue of the sky faded swiftly to pinks, oranges, and white in a most awesome way. This seemed special to me then. It had been a long time since I had the luxury to just sit and breathe. It had been a long time since I had the luxury to sit and bask it the fantastic beauty of my land. I had breakfast on my deck in ease, a welcome change to the hasty and hazardous eating on the go I'd been doing. I watched the towns people pass by, each one a testament to the American Dream and spirit, even when compared to those country boys to whom I owe my life and our collective freedom too most. A truly inspiring and heroic group, God bless them and rest their souls.

It had been a fantastic start, but like every other day in those trying and stressful times it was ruined by a phone call. I hadn't even heard it ring, but I could feel it, the subtle dread creeping up my legs into my spine. I'd gained a bit of a sixth sense about these things, not a very good one, but it still counts. I thought about leaving, thought about pretending not to be home. I wanted to, more than I could ever admit. Those seconds it took to walk from the deck to the phone were the longest of my life. Somehow it felt like I was talking my death walk, up the miserable steps of the gallows about to be hung out.

The phone was still ringing, I kind of hoped it would have stopped before I'd have gotten there but I was never a lucky sort of guy. "Jones here." I answered blandly.

"Good morning Amerika! How are you this fine day?" It had been years since I had last heard that voice. The last time before that day was the night after NATO had dissolved. I wasn't sure if I was going to shit my pants or puke, and I wasn't sure if that was out of fear or rage.

"What the fuck do you want asshole?" I growl at the phone, gripping it so sternly my fingers turn white.

"I was just wondering how things are. It's been so long since we've last spoke, yes. I thought I'd check on you!" Sweet, polite, and way too cheerful I wanted to beat his stupid commie face in.

"I was great until you called, if you must know, you Godless piece of shit." With each word my voice rases and my near innate anger towards him boils inside.

"I'll promise you dear Amerika, it is because those are the orders of my wonderful government." If I had cared any I might have noted the strain and discomfort in his words. However, I hate that creepy faggot ass-face and don't care.

"Well, that's fucking awesome but I don't give a shit. So, please go die in a hole or something ok?" I reach over to the coffee pot and fill what I'm still only half sure was a clean cup. If that was how I was going to spend the day I was going to need some serious caffeinated help.

"No thank you." I expected more out of him for that, but nothing. I hate that guy so goddamn much.

It was in the lull of this awful conversation did it hit me. "Ivan, you son of a bitch, how are you calling me?" My home phone service hardly covered long distance, let alone international. I was and still am notorious for using work phones for personal calls so, I didn't need any of those extra costs.

"Oh? That's right. I've called your home haven't I?" Another useless set of words.

"How do you even HAVE this number? Arth–England doesn't have this number!" Though, it was only because we were too busy with other things to have time for idle personal chat. At the time, I thought it was pretty gay and that he was just being a douche... I still feel pretty bad about that, not that he knows any of it.

"Surely, you didn't think such petty information was out of my reach did you?" His condescending childish tone grated badly in my ears. "Although, for this, I didn't need my usual means of information gathering exactly."

" Just TELL me what the fuck–" I tried to elaborate on my displeasure and confusion but his next words shut me up turning my blue hot American blood to ice.

"I just had to politely ask your precious little brother for it! Canada is very hospitable. Matvey especially is quite nice as well." Russia's carefulness and pleasantness didn't help the utter darkness and dread I felt.

Coldly, quietly I asked, "What have you done?"

I could just about taste the satisfaction in his voice. "Now you're interested? I'm surprised you remember Canada's name, yes? You see, I was meeting with Cuba the other day, and during idle 'ice-breaking' as you say, yes, conversation we discovered that we both have a fondness for your sweet overshadowed sibling."

I wanted to say, 'I might forget his name and where he lives and once in a while what he looks like, but at least I really love him! At least I'm not holding him prisoner! At least my government hasn't raped his land and violated his people. We just ignore them. ASS.' I pretend not to, but how can I not know about Russia's family and their history? For once in my life though I found self control and only asked "Where, where is he and what did you do to him?"

There is an evil sound I assumed was Ivan terrible laughter. "He is in Canada, where he belongs. Where else? I concluded that visit where I got your number yesterday at a reasonable hour. I'll be seeing him again soon though. Shall I send your regards?"

"No, you won't go see him soon because I'm going to him today! I'm going to make sure he knows what evil you are and that he won't ever let you back in his house! I swear to God if you try anything funny with him...!" I said, somehow with only one huge breath.

There was quiet. For a moment I thought he had hung up or something, but his next curt reply came. "I do not recommend that." There was another pause, I could only imagine how much Russia was enjoying it. "You have much to do in your own country, yes? Surely you cannot be spared to babysit a country that does not want that service."

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" I bark.

"Tell me Amerika, how was the sunrise? Have you ever just relaxed and watched one? It's very pretty and comforting, yes?" Useless bastard.

"Don't change the subject shit-face." I said, glaring at my cold coffee.

"I'm going to send you a present, Alfred. I'm sure you'll find it interesting. Please do at least stay in your country to receive it. Your government will be happier if you stay around at that." Retarded giggling ensued for a moment. "At any rate, I must depart, I'm going with Cuba to see Matvey and I don't want to be late."

My inside felt like explosive knots. There was nothing I could do for... uhh... Canada. Again, I was left to be totally useless to my brother. My BROTHER, who was to be left to the whims of the commie faggot-ass-hats Russia and Cuba. Just one was bad enough, but both of them? It could only be trouble. I worked out one last question, "Russia, where are you now?"

"Where am I? What a silly question! What do you take me for?" He responded with cheer. I stayed silent. "Near enough to be able to call you at this number, far enough where you don't have time to try to stop me." Silence, as of waiting for my response. "Take care then, Amerika, yes? Until we meet again!"

"You are the reason I support McCarthy-ism and I hope you die in a fire." It was all I could say.

He hung up. I sat down. Even from there I could feel him mocking me. Russia and Cuba... at Canada's and there was nothing I could do. Why hadn't Mathew contacted me if he was confronted by Ivan? I still don't know. I never did find out exactly what happened at those times. Then again, I guess I had always been too afraid to ask. My imagination was enough and I guess I'm scared of finding out if it was the same, or worse. The possibility of it being 'not so bad' hasn't ever been tempting enough. I'm surprised a bit that he forgives me for this inadequacy.

I sat there in horror for a long time alone and quiet with my imagination. My cruel imagination.

I knew though I had to collect myself. Russia had basically told me he was, for at least a short time, in the States. He was sending something to me as well. I wasn't sure what that meant though, with how politely vague he was being. I didn't know then, when I picked up the phone again to call my boss, that by 'he' he meant his country AND Cuba; that he meant 'me' as in America my country; and that by 'present' he meant a duel front invasion. None the less though, I had to let them know. Those were very troubled waters I was left to drown in.


	2. Drawing Lines

_Thank you to those who have favorited/decided to awesomely stalk..err, watch this for updates; and a thank you also to my reviewer(s). I hope I do not disappoint~ :3 [EDIT] I changed the ending of this chapter a bit. Just a bit. Ah, and a word on the possessive apostrophe! Thank you for reminding me about them Kang Jae Gyu. With what little time I have to myself to write my editing sometimes slacks. v,v_

//RedDawn//

-China considers re-allying with America

-French and other western Militaries pushed out of Africa and parts of Middle East

-British government offering full support to America and ex-NATO anti-communist Nations

- Anti-Communist guerilla movements believed to be exterminated

:Drawing Lines.

"Jerry, this is important. I don't care what the Boss is doing you put me through to him. Right. NOW." I practically yelled into the phone, feeling sick to my stomach as I called up the White House. Fun thing about being the heart of a nation is having more liberty than normal when dealing with the 'chain of command thing', and also that I can use the White House as my personal hotel service whenever I want– that's pretty awesome too.

"Jonsey boy, what's going on? I thought you were on vacation or something?" Jerry, the male secretary- even though that's not what his official title is it's basically what he does- asked with mild concern.

I sighed, and used my free hand to massage my forehead. "Jerry, I... I can only tell you that this needs to go straight to the top. I wouldn't be working like this on my time off if I had any other choice, TRUST me."

He made a confirming noise and said, "Yeah, yeah I hear you buddy. I'll go make the call. Should I also have Marge send transportation for you?"

"Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea." I answered.

"Alright, hold for a minute ok?" It was a rhetorical question. I was put on hold and bombarded with elevator music. While I waited I could hear the conversation I had with Russia play over and over again in my head. I was trying to think if there was something else, anything else I could have read into it. Some clue to what he was after, if he was just trying to fuck with my head, if there was any hint as to what was going to happen with my brother,... ummm Canada, Matt.

I was snapped out of my fruitless trace, "Jones! Jones! Don't mess around when you call me up like this!" It was the Boss, Mr President.

"Oh, ha ha ha, sorry about that, I'm just... really worried." It was all I could get out.

"I thought you were on vacation to relax? When you're stressed out it does nothing good for everyone here in Washington." He sounded like a parent then, with his chiding concern.

"Seems like my vacation might be over now Boss. I just got a call... and," I started to explain.

"No simple phone call could give you this much stress, to call here at this hour." He sounded tired, like he should be the one on break. He also sounded resigned to his duty to not leave Washington, to stay there and do everything in his power for me, the country, and for the people he helped govern over.

"That's the thing, it wasn't just a simple call, Boss. It was from Russia." I said.

"I thought you didn't have long distance?" He tried to stifle a giggle. I still can't believe he said that.

"Very funny." I sighed relieved he didn't freak on me. "It was Ivan, the 'me' of Russia. He, called– he was HERE, stateside."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Very, I think. I asked where he was, and he said something like, 'near by but to far' or something. He said a lot of weird, concerning things." Speaking then, I turned to look out of the window. It was so bright outside, I could hear people talking and laughing. It was nice to hear them oblivious to the swifter approaching disaster.

"How long ago did this happen?" His tone was more serious than before, and understandably so, but he had no idea how serious it should have been.

"It was maybe, a forty minutes ago." I felt kind of nervous giving the honest answer, I knew I should have called sooner.

"I see, you did tell me that the other nations of the world had people like you, but are you, you know, sure it was– " I knew where he was going with his question.

"Beyond a doubt, don't worry, there is no question of identity here. If there was I wouldn't have called. If you knew... any way, that's not what's important." I tried to keep him on track. Things dealing with 'my sort' confused him, but he wasn't the only one, though there were only five yet who had trouble like he did.

"So, tell me then, what's this all about?" Again, the parent voice.

"He and Cuba, I think..." I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn't think of how I wanted to explain it.

"Woah there, Alfred. What does CUBA have to do with this?" He was suddenly more attentive sounding but I can't say why I thought that.

"Ivan, he said he had been meeting with Cuba and that they had been talking about my brother." With each word I feel a sickening rage again.

"Are you trying to tell me, Canada is an enemy now?" He sounded dead serious, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to laugh at him or kick him in the face because of it.

"NO! No, boss Matt would never do that, he'd never join those commie bastards. His government has done... stuff for us, before... I think? No, I think he's in trouble. I'm sure something bad's going to happen." I knew it was selfish to talk to my president about my concern for my brother. Canada is Canada, not a vital concern at the time, despite how much of a good ally Matt and his government had always been.

"I hope you aren't asking me to let you leave the country. You know I can't let you do that right now." At the time I was a bit hurt by how uncaring he sounded, but I still understood. "Besides this, we haven't heard anything from the Canadian government in weeks. If they needed us, or you, for anything, they'd have said something by now."

"Actually, Russia said something like that too." I feel something bitter wash up my throat. The President said nothing but made a noise I took as 'Why, dear awesome America do go on.' I took a deep breath to keep the bitter thing in my throat down. "He said I shouldn't leave either. Made it sound like it would be in my best interest, or maybe in his. I'm not... not too sure anymore what he meant. Those fucking Russians, can't understand I word they mean. Sounded like, he was sending something here. I'm thinking he means either, here," I heard a honk outside. I looked and it was the usual car. "Or there, the White House. I'll tell you the rest when I get there. Car's outside to bring me over."

"I'm sure, the Russians, feel the same way about us fucking Americans..." It was the most cynical thing I think I've ever heard him say. "In any case, Alfred, I'll send word out to watch the mail for suspicious things, and see what else I can't find out without stirring any unnecessary panic. That's the last thing I want." There was something accusatory in his voice, as though I didn't know he didn't want a panic; as though had I said nothing, nothing would come of that damnable phone call. I passed it off as the stress talking.

I spent the car ride pretending to be cheerful, for the sake of the driver. He seemed to need a mood lifter, and I thought I did a pretty good job. It felt good to brighten someones day, after having mine shit upon by a (probably) clinically insane asshole who I wish would get a transorbital deep frontal cut lobotomy. In fact, then and often now I still think it would be a good idea, and that I'd even do it myself if I could. It only passes by me later and only for a short time that such a thought puts us on the same level, but damn, would it feel good anyway.

I gave the driver a generous tip, so I could again give the guy a nice feel good moment and boarded the small express plane to Washington. On the way, I remembered the few times England, France, and Canada spent time all together in moderate civility. Matty and I were still pretty little during most of that time and France wasn't nearly as... weird, as he is these days.

With the last real smile I would have for many months, I fell asleep. It wasn't a long nap, but long enough where I had an awesome dream. A world without hunger, war, communism, and best of all... a world without telephones. I still today have dreams about there being a peaceful world free of telephones, despite how much I really like the cellphone I have now.

"I'm sorry to wake you Mr Jones, but we have arrived. Your car is waiting at the other end of the runway." My wake up call. At least miss stewardess seemed genuinely sorry about it.

The rest of the trip to my dear capitol building was spent in silence. Even though I had napped I felt twice as tired, twice as sick. I could feel then most clearly, that every citizen of mine felt just as I did then, tired and scared, but maybe... I thought then, some panic and paranoia would do them good. At any moment anything could have happened- this was the nature of the everyday atmosphere of my country and my people. However, with the threat of nuclear war less than it once was for some reason they seemed to feel there was less to worry about. I agreed, it was nice to not worry about radiation and total destruction... but. It hit me, as I took the steps that seemed to go on forever to relay my story, that even though the threat of bombing was gone (thanks to the removal of nuclear weapons from Europe) there was still a way to kill us in one way.

Invasion. It would be worse, almost, than being hit with a nuke. We'd have to live though an invasion, and that was just the sort of thing Russia -Ivan- would get a hard on for. That aside, I didn't figure his government would want to switch from a cold war to a hot one. I thought for sure they were just as worn from the other wars like the rest of the world was. I thought for sure, that Russias government wouldn't dare stage an attack on American soil. That should have been my first clue.

The air in D.C. those days was heavy with paranoia and fear. I, like every one else there wanted to just go back home and hide while hoping for the best but bound by pride and duty, as well as love for each person and aspect of my dear land I went forward. As soon as I reached the meeting room, where I'd have to give my report, I sank deep into the plush chair relieved to be off my feet. Heaving a loud and weary sigh I watched the clock and waited. I'd have almost fallen asleep but just as I started to the doors swung open. Making a move to respectfully stand, I was waved to keep sitting.

It wasn't the usual cabinet that accompanied the Boss, but the select few who knew exactly who and what I am. They sat and Boss President tossed me a large envelope. "This came for you, so far there was nothing else suspicious coming from or going out of the country that was at all suspicious or for you." He leaned deeply into his chair and rubbed his forehead, "I take it, this Arthur Kirkland, is England- the British version of you?"

"Yeah... It seems so. I'd recognize his girly writing anywhere. Wonder what the hell he wants?" I opened it under the tired gazes of the cabinet. I read the letter quietly, mostly to myself.

"America,

You'd better appreciate this, you ungrateful brat. It took a lot to compile this and get it out without risk of interception. I know you haven't been able to keep in contact with the other Nations, I too have had similar troubles. It seems Russia has been on the move more swiftly than we had imagined. The non-aligned Nations are being forced to choose sides, Switzerland, Finland, and Sweden seem to be the only ones with any luck in holding their neutrality. Austria is wavering but he may receive aid from Germany, Italy, or maybe even Norway or Denmark. China, despite being communist seems to want to help us fight off Russia if it comes to it. We'll see how that goes. France's military has been removed from a number of the African Nations: Algeria, Mali, Mauritania, and Sudan have been lost and more may yet fall. India too has been lost to Russia's house. There wasn't anything I could do. " It went on, describing who his 'sources' said was in what condition, and where they stood on the many issues dealing with the USSR and what they may or may not be up to. I read the rest to myself, the news only became more bleak. It concluded with, "Not that I'm sure you've noticed, but I have reason to believe Canada is in trouble too. I haven't heard from him in a long time, and he unlike YOU, remembers to write. In any event, git, I'll be there for you with all the might and resilience of the British military to the end. Not that you deserve it, but we just don't want Russia and his communist friends taking over the world.

I hope this letter reaches you well,

England

p.s.- So much for your bloody 'containment' idiot."

I handed the letter off to my right, "I assume you'll want a copy of this?" There was a grunt of agreement and the letter was taken.

The President and his concentrated cabinet discussed the implications of the USSR's actions or apparent actions. They tried to figure out how this new information hadn't reached them sooner, and what it had to do with earlier events. I mostly just sat there, waiting for them to tell me what we were going to do about it. I didn't care about any of the political crap they were going on and on with, I just wanted to know what was going to be DONE. In true American fashion, I just wanted results.

They asked me again to tell about the phonecall. I tried to emphasis the relationship between Cuba and Russia, since they seemed to think that the end of the Cuban Missile Crisis was the end of Cubas immediate danger to us. It brought up more talk about policy and precedents, those sort of things, but nothing about what we were going to DO.

A phone rang in the back of the room, I motioned to them that I'd get it. "Jones, privet cabinet meeting. What the hell do you want?" I listened agitated, then hung up. "Guys, I've got some bad news. There is movement in the south, all along the coast of Florida to the western edge of the Texas boarder. They also said Alaska went Quiet. No word in or out to any of our bases there."

"Anything else?" Came a stern but panicked reply.

"The Alaska thing might be a technical error from bad weather, but they aren't sure what to make of the other thing. One might be a distraction for a more serious thing, but it sounds like everyone is just really confused." I sighed as I sat back down, this time at the edge of the seat.

"Mexico is in the middle of a revolution, how do we know it has anything to do with us?" A loud accusing sort of remark came from one of the military advisers.

"They don't know anything about it yet, but I think it's best we know about it incase it WILL have something to do with us." I tried to explain.

Everyone looked to the President, each hoping Boss would know what to do. "Let's stay out of Mexico's business for now, but keep an eye on it. Hasn't Alaska gone Quiet before due to weather? I'm sure... I'm sure everything's fine. Let's just try to figure this out calmly. Panic will only get us deeper into a mess." Always the voice of reason, it's just too bad he was wrong. Communism, like Germany's buses wait for no one.

That evening, after the orders had been given and distributed, left in the room was just me, Boss, and a Public Relations adviser. Suddenly, a man burst in, a mail carrier type secretary with a damn fast set of legs. He panted as he spoke. "Bad... news. Good.. You.. In, here. Wasn't sure. Texas, Arizona, New Mexico... Oregon, Washington... the.. Dakotas, are gone. Mississippi... Alabama, and... and Nebraska... California too are about to be lost." The guy leaned in hard on Boss President's desk.

The P.R. guy got up and poured four glasses of whisky, downed on and refilled it. He picked up the phone, "Send in Albert Morrin and his staff, The President is going to need a fucking amazing speech really fucking fast." Then he hung up and passed out the glasses.

"Are you sure? Are you sure that's true?" Boss President asked so very gravely. The messenger nodded, still out of breath.

"Here's to the end of the Cold War, fellas." I lift up my glass as though it were a toast, the others do the same, none of us able to look each other in the eyes.


	3. French Influence

_You, might be wondering, 'WHY, is China siding with US?' It was just stated at some point in the movie, yeah guys China- they're on our side and since I'm getting to a point where I'll be meeting up with the movie's plot I'll get to that~ don't you worry. In the remake I hear is being made of Red Dawn it is the Russians and the Chinese that invade the US and not the Russians and the Cubans and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. Don't shoot me if I'm wrong though, yes? Again, thank you to those who have/will review/fav/etc. ;3 I'm always pleased to know when I'm entertaining someone._

//RedDawn//

- Mexican Revolution concludes with Communist victory

- China announces loyalty to all Non-Soviet aligned countries

- Norway and Denmark send assistance Austria

- Quebec separates from Canada with Newfoundland and Labrador, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick

-Canada announces surrender to Soviet control

:French Influence.

The invasion went with such precision and speed, it was as though the maneuver was taken right out of one of Germany's head. It was a scary thing, knowing and feeling that my territory had fallen to the invading forces so easily. It seemed our aggressor knew exactly what they were doing, of course they did. But so well, that it took only a few days for us to lose more than half of the country? Insane. They managed to attack before we knew we needed to defend. Time and time again they took what we didn't think they would want on top of what we knew they wanted. We failed our people, the States, ourselves by trying to figure out what was 'important' to defend trying to figure out what they would go after next.

I knew the whole time, I think they did to but just couldn't admit it. The Governments of the Soviet Union and Cuba very clearly had no pattern because they didn't need one- they wanted everything. That seemed to be their method, simply to fight on and take everything they were able to at any costs.

Not that we didn't manage to scrape up a few clear military victories. Except for Florida, Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona– the Southern and Southern New England states stayed fairly strong. Alabama was nearly lost over and over again but they endured and it's still magical to me how we never once lost control over Louisiana despite her compromising location. No one thought we'd get Alabama or Mississippi back for any amount of time, let alone maintain Texas' eastern Cajun and Creole neighbor.

In spite of this, our forces were weakened and disheartened. No wonder, plains area and western military bases of all kinds were laid to ruin, friends and family killed or imprisoned and no one knowing for sure which applied to who or which was better. If the attack hadn't been so strong, had it been anything less, we might have found strength and spirit instead of dread and desperation. It seemed the enemy knew that when they attacked. If I didn't hate them so much, I'd admire them for the genius. I'd just come from a meeting of State Status'– a group of people responsible for relaying information from each state that had our occupation in it to the president and advisers.

"Alfred!" Someone behind me called out. I glanced over my shoulder but didn't slow down much. "We've got news from Canada!" The most fantastic thing I thought I could ever hear. "Get to the Oval Office quick, Pres. Says you're really interested in that Canada situation." He, who offered that news of course didn't know WHY I was interested in Canada, he was one of the many who was unknown to those guarded facts. Up until that day it was simply assumed Canada had abandoned us, or was... destroyed.

I waved as I ran the rest of the way down the hall. There was no time for politeness, not when I thought I'd be seeing my brother safe on American held land. I was wrong though, of course, it was not Canada, but one of his Provinces who I often mistake for Belgium. "You?"

The Province and would-be-Nation stood young but somehow aged in other ways in front of Boss President's desk. He turned to me, visibly fighting back tears probably months old. "I'm glad you made it so quickly America. I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm Quebec." I nodded, I vaguely remembered but I wasn't much interested in anything but getting on with things.

Boss motioned for us to sit down. "Quebec here has some enlightening information for us."

Again I nodded, willing to listen to whatever just so long as I'd finally know what was going on. Quebec took a deep breath and muttered something in not-French French. "After Russia's first recent visit to Mattieu, he had suspicions of Russia's intentions, but knew it was not safe to contact you... I wasn't given so many details on why this was, I think he was being monitored by plants in his government maybe. I can't say for sure. I think, also that mon pouvre Mattieu thought he could handle the situation. Just incase though, he told me, incase you or any of the more northern or western provinces were to be invaded, I was to announce my sovereignly and protect my eastern province neighbors. The process of getting the documentation done without anyone of consequence finding out and threatening us was very difficult."

"Was that why we didn't hear anything? You didn't want to draw attention?" I asked, looked over to the president, who was making note of something.

He wove his fingers together and shifted his gaze from me to the floor every few words he spoke. "Oui. Forty percent of the military force and political party members of the other province were quickly transferred to my territory, it took months to get it done and make it look routine and boring. Like something not worth watching. I have no idea what Canada had to do to get me the slack needed to do it, but it worked. For the duration of this conflict, I, and the eastern Provinces are all that's left of Free Canada, the French-Canadian Federation of Quebec. That's what I, we are called." He went on, looking sheepishly at my President explaining which provinces and territories were with who, and who had what resources.

There was a painful, heart wrenching silence for what felt like years, Boss President killed it. "I see, Quebec, I'm glad you've told us this. It's comforting to know one our best allies has not left us, entirely. If we are able to help you at all, let us know." He stood up and looked at his watch. "I have another engagement to go to, I'll leave you two together. Alfred, write up a report when you're done here, give it to Marge, I'll read it later." Then he left.

"America, I know your leaders cannot help us much right now, that's not why I'm here. Francis, Belgium, Sweden, and some of his other Nordic brothers are assisting me. I've come to you instead to offer my support and to tell you not to worry about ton frere. He's a strong country, with good people and he can take care of himself. You know that." For the first time that whole time Quebec looked me in the eyes. "Worry about yourself and your lands people. They are the ones who will save you– the ones who have been marked to lose. It seems that's where your people find strength. In places where there should be none."

I absorbed his words, digested them for a while. He got up, and went for the door. "America, the only way you can be a hero is to... you know, go be one. Or did you forget that too?"

"No, I understand. I... I guess I just needed a wake up call." I stood up with a sigh.

"I don't think, you quite have woken up yet. Bien sur, you will though." Again those pain-filled young eyes bore into mine. "Please America, no matter how annoying the other Nations find you, you are a sort of light of hope, even though they'd never say so to your face. They look at you and think, 'Ah, so young, so restless yet already a world power? A world power flawed but not trying to take over Europe? Incredible!' Do you understand where I'm going with this?"

"Either you're trying to flatter me into action, or you're trying to slap me in the face for being lazy... but yeah, I get it. I know what I need to do." I open the door for Quebec. "Things must be hard for you as well, your younger than me but already your standing as a vital 'country' in World War three."

"Canadians, we are peaceful but we are not weak. I've not given up hope on what I've temporarily lost." Quebec the would-be-Nation didn't answer my question.

"I know, I'm not giving up either. You know, Quebec... fighting losing battles, is what I do best." We shared a meaningful look. "Where are the other provinces that joined you?"

"With notre grand frere... ah, our big brother France. If something happens to me, the French-Canadian Federation of Quebec... will be, peutetre, New-French-held-Canada or some nonsense." He offers a brave smile and walks off. I neither know or care if what he said about the other Nations secretly looking up to me was true, it's what I needed to hear. What I didn't need to hear came next "I heard from Alaska, the one time I had the chance I was able to see her, that Americans and Russians have something common: being able to do anything even when they have nothing– but only when they feel like it. On Russian soil, Russians do it best, but in America, Americans do it best and in every American lives America." That was one of the first time I'd been compared to a Russian, and disturbingly enough it wasn't the last.

"I'll... take that to heart I guess." I felt guilty for having forgotten about Alaska. (It was the same kind of guilt I feel when ever I forget what Mattie's country is called.) I was sure she was mostly ok. It used to be Russia's land, so all I could do was hope for the best. Just like I would have to for Matt.

Quebec turned back to me, with a quizzical look. "Speaking of Russia, I saw him after I met with Alaska too. I heard him say something strange. It was something like, 'It's too bad I won't be there to see his face when he gets word of his present's arrival. After all the hard work I put into making it... ' He mentioned you before that, so I thought maybe he was talking about you. You don't think... he's going to..."

"Nuke us, no, I don't think so. As far as I know that sort of brinkmanship has passed. No... He was talking about the invasion I think and the taking out of our missel siloughs and that stuff. He... sort of told me about it the morning it started, sort of ish." I explained quietly so passers by wouldn't hear. Not that they had time to eavesdrop.

"Alor, mon cher, that must hurt quite a bit." He offered then a sympathetic sounding set of words in Canadian-French, then left. He was right, it did hurt, but that hurt was only going to send me further.

No doubt, it is this event that inspired that Province to reach toward a future of being a true Nation, instead of a strange and clever war-time ploy. Though I was inspired by his sheer force of will, I was still devastated to learn, that Canada was under Russian control. At least, it seemed he had some sort of plan, that was more than I had then. It was time I knew then to step up and be a real big brother, a real hero. No more sitting in meeting rooms, no more filing reports, no more waiting for letters or hopefully un-intercepted transmissions from other states or countries. It was time for field work. I knew I had to go back to what I did best, defending freedom like a man!

I could see then after I met the pained, brave eyes of Quebec that Washington was hopeless. Yes, they wanted to be victorious, but few to none believed in it. I had to go and find proof that no matter what the odds we were worth fighting for. I can't say when they, no we, lost faith but it had indeed happened. I guess that happens in troubled times. What I needed to find were real, Americans patriots, like what my government had been founded on. I needed to find those who could make something from nothing and do it better than anyone else. This fact broke and brightened my heart at the same weird time.

I needed to go into the heart of my lost lands... and find those willing to fight for freedom the way it deserves to be fought for, as if you were going to lose it or had lost it and needed it back more than they needed air. If ever there was a time where 'Give me Liberty or give me Death' was as true as it was when the phrase was first spoke, it was then. My first step to this, was, unfortunately filing a report and proposal with Marge who also helped me find an empty room to nap in. I'd been a long day, and I had a feeling I wasn't going to get many more chances for any sort of real rest.

I was maybe a two hour long snooze before I was woken up, "Jones!"

I snapped awake half confused where I was half wondering if I had actually slept at all. "Yes, sir!" I sat up at the edge of the bed. "My request approved?"

"You bet your ass it is!" I wasn't sure who this was at the time but I could tell right away that I liked him. "What you requested right there, is exactly the sort of thing we need! Maybe you've heard, but at one time, we the US government trained people to train people to start revolutions? Cause political and social upheavals as well as create violent guerrilla soldiers?"

"Yeah, I have heard, and despite my mixed feelings on those policies, I'm glad it was understood what I thought we needed to do." I yawned and stretched while I got up the rest oft he way. "Though, didn't that fail in Cuba? I mean... you know."

"Yes, well, these are Americans we're dealing with. They're fuckin' crazy by nature so it should be easier. Now, your exact proposal needed some editing to, you know, not sound like a suicide mission. Admins don't like that, but I fixed it up real good." He laughed and patted me on the shoulder. "Yes-sir-ee, your attitude and willingness to go all out and find our guys lost out there still trying to fight the good fight, is fantastic."

"I take it my request went straight to you then?" I asked.

"That it did m'boy. Marge is a smart girl who knows just who to talk to." He took my hand and gave it a hearty shake. "Let me introduce myself better, my name's, Colonel Howards, Colonel Abram Howards, and I'm the guy to get you where you gotta go."

Not quite sure what to do, but caught up in the moment I replied, "Jones, Alfred Jones– physical embodiment of everything America and American."

He smiled knowingly at me as we left the room and down a number of halls. "Yeah, m'boy I've heard all about you, it's just too bad we didn't get to see each other sooner, and that we won't see each other much after this. I'm a busy man, Mr All American. They got me running all over gods creation trying to strike up a fever for capitalism and freedom, but I've had to settle mostly for simply Anti-Soviet Union movements. Not bad, but not exactly what we've been hoping for."

I went to say something, but he cut me off after taking a deep breath. " Have you heard of my work in the middle east? What we managed to do in Madagascar? You hear how closely I worked with the French and the British?" I just shook my head. "Of, course you didn't! No one outside of this room here knows! That's why I just told you. I promise you m'boy had I been around when they were doin' that Cuba business, I swear to you m'boy we'd have one less set of commies on our land today!"

We found ourselves in a room full of activity, but what the Colonel was most interested in showing me was the large scale map in the back of the room. It looked to be tracking who was where and how many were where, the color coordination scheme however I didn't understand. "What's all this?"

The Colonel called up a spectacled twiggy little guy to explain it. It was indeed tracking out movement and the enemy's, it also showed which states belonged to who, which states were with known guerilla activity, which states had surrendered. It was the surrendering state that peaked my interest. "What's going on with Wisconsin? Why are they surrendering? I'd have thought they could take care of themselves?"

"They can, that's why they agreed to help us with our plan to get you into Soviet controlled territory." Answered the glasses wearing stick man.

"Woah, really?!" I was astonished. How fast had this been thought up?

The Colonel seemed to know my questions in truth. "We figured if the Commies had worked fast and recklessly, we've got to just... Do it better. Faster, and more reckless we're gonna show then just how fuckin' crazy us Americans are." He eyed the map on the wall with strange pride.

"Somehow this sounds really dangerous." I couldn't help but feel a dark sort of excitement at the thought. Colonel Howards was seriously my HERO that day. He reminded me so much of myself, it's no wonder. When he spoke, it was like I was looking into a mirror. Which was funny because he had such a distinguished, dignified look than me that I found very unexpected and awesome.

"Most defiantly, especially because once you get there, you'll be totally on your own." He cast me a forlorn glance.

"Alone?" I asked.

"No, not alone, just you and five others. You'll be sent off with as much as you can carry but we believe that you'll find be resourceful should you run low on what you need." To be sure Colonel Abram Howards was really a man after my own heart, if not maybe just a bit crazier. Though I just thought it was part of his American charm. Truly, an inspiring man.

I sat down with the Colonel and glasses guy to discuss the specifics of their plan. It was crazy, reckless and didn't make as much sense as the administration would have liked. Somehow, I felt compelled to make a call to where ever the fuck Ivan was, just to tell him I was going to send him a thank you gift. Even though I knew better and really didn't want to have to see him or speak to him unless I had to.

Unfortunately, I got my wish sort of. The first commie bastard Nation I'd have to lay eyes on was indeed not Russia but Cuba.


End file.
